Rational
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: At best, Crown could be considered rational. At worst, he could be considered to be someone who reminded Matthew too much about his father...


**Rational**

"And so, as you can see, by increasing the amount of Mercury psynergy invested in my sleet attack, when compared with the square root of Mars psynergy against which the water will be pitted..."

_By Sol, doesn't he ever _shut up?

"...then I can guarantee a successful suppression of the enemy's power at roughly..."

_...guess not._

Sixteen years of living, thirteen years of classes trying to prevent him from living, and Matthew had never thought he'd yearn for the type of lesson his father had insisted on giving him. True, dad could be...annoying sometimes, demanding even, but at least his lessons had a) taught him about Venus psynergy, b) involved wielding a sword and c) wasn't entirely oral. Crown though, was not only yakking on about elements that Matthew held little to no purview in, but was being a smartass while he was at it. And while Tyrell was copping the brunt of the adept's lecture as to why Mercury was inherently superior to Mars, Matthew's ears weren't obeying his brain's request to shut off.

"So, as you can no doubt see by now-..."

_Shut up shut up shut up!_

Deciding to put as much distance between himself and the realm of excessive intellectualism, the party's leader made his way back to the smouldering remains of last night's fire, intent on flopping down to the ground. He had no idea how he was meant to do this, how he was meant to save Weyard (why did the world always need saving damnit?) from psynergy vortexes when he hadn't the slightest idea of how to accommodate such competing personalities. Himself, Tyrell, Crown-...

"Oi, geroff me!"

...and Karis.

Matthew always thought that the people of Vale put too much stock in him for his father's legacy. And since he hadn't even realized he was sitting down on Karis until it was too late, it was clear that the world was doomed.

"Oh...um, sorry," the warrior of Vale murmured, getting to his feet and watching his friend do the same. He hadn't expected her to still be sleeping, given that Crown's bragging was being carried on the wind that she specialized in manipulating.

"Sorry?" Karis exclaimed. "You squash me into the dirt and say _sorry_?"

Rubbing his head and wondering whether he could use healing psynergy to rid himself of a headache, Matthew toyed with using his Venus powers in another way. Namely opening up a hole in the ground and living in it for the rest of his life.

"Well?"

"I said I was sorry," the teen muttered, casting aside the whole idea and instead lying back on some grass that was decidedly adept-free. "If you want me to say something else, get Crown to shut up first."

"Crown?" Karis asked. "What about him?"

_...you've got to be kidding me._

The first possibility was that Karis had gone deaf. The second, slightly more likely possibility was that she didn't find the four-eye's constant lectures to be like a splinter in one's mind. Maybe it was an element thing. Wind and water were aligned with each other, as earth was with fire...well, at least that's what his father had taught him and given his reluctance to talk about Matthew's mother, the bastard probably hadn't meant a word of it. Besides, Tyrell was living proof that mutually exclusive elements weren't mutually exclusive at all. Barring lectures of course.

"Remind me..." Matthew began slowly, glancing at his friend and...non-friend as they came over towards the camp site. "Why did we pick the guy up?"

"Um...because he's willing to help us risk life and limb to save Weyard?" Karis ventured, looking up from some strange symbol she'd scratched in the dirt. "Why? Do you have a problem?"

"No, I don't. It's that smart-ass who had the problem. He's just like my dad and-..."

Karis hit him with her staff. Hard.

Feeling his forehead throbbing like some pulsating ooze that could be found on the slopes of what was once Mt. Aleph, Matthew looked at his closest friend for support. Unfortunately, his closest friend had doubled back to pick up his sword and Crown, for whatever reason, had insisted on following him. So, all the Venus adept could do was remain in the company of his second closest friend and, in light of his forehead, might fall further down the list.

"Don't start that again," said Karis firmly. "Don't start that again Matthew, because I'm sick of hearing it."

"Start what?" the Venus adept asked, perplexed. "Tyrell-..."

"Even if Tyrell knew what I was talking about, he wouldn't take sides. Still, call it female intuition, but I'm sick of you being so...irrational."

Matthew snorted. Karis had definitely lost her place. Which put...well, he could think of another friend soon. Not Crown of course, but still...

"Irrational?" he asked. "Karis, you don't think having all that crap of controlling alchemy rationally would be enough to have the opposite effect?"

"After what we've seen, no."

_...what?_

Usually, Karis was reliable. Usually, Karis, the one who was somehow interested in what his father had to say, was the one to do his homework while he tried to live his life the way he wanted to. But headache or not, he wasn't sure what she meant by that. Luckily, he didn't have to wait long to get an explanation.

"Weyard's been restored to an extent by the Golden Sun," Karis began. "Yet how many people have actually appreciated that? They're either giving praise to divine intervention, or cursing us for releasing it. Heck, Crown may be the only person we've come across who actually understands what's occurred."

Matthew opened his mouth...then closed it. He had to admit, Karis might have a point. As annoying as he could be, the Mercury adept had at least spared him accusations or praise of an act that was carried out three decades ago. And, for all he knew, he might be the only one.

"So, as I was saying, the quotient of Mercury..."

Sighing, Matthew wondered what was for breakfast. Headache or not, somehow the four-eyes hadn't become so bad to listen to anymore.

* * *

_A/N_

_It's said that a picture is worth a thousand words. Considering it was primarily artwork of Crown that 'inspired' that and the rough word length of this oneshot, maybe that saying's been validated. Or, as I'm taking stabs in the dark at _Dark Dawn _characterization, been butchered. 0_0_


End file.
